Shadowlands
by TygraSol
Summary: The force bond has been severed between Kylo and Rey. Ben is lost forever, and the fates of the dark knight and the last jedi have been sealed... or have they? The realm of dreams holds a mysterious power. There may be a remnant of hope to restore the balance of the force. But only if true love can find and guide them through the shadowlands and into the sun...
1. Chapter I

**AN: I've gone back and started editing chapters in an attempt to make them flow better and more comprehensive. It will be a slow process, and I'm sure not everybody will feel like rereading what I've already published, but I would still appreciate reviews with constructive feedback! If something seems out of place or out of character, please let me know! I'm still learning about the Star Wars universe. The terminology and linguistics are a bit of a struggle right now, since I'm not always sure what the SW counter part to real world idioms and creatures are. While creative writing is mostly a therapuetic hobby for me, producing shoddy work just to put it out there is not my style. I love storytelling, and I know how well I can write when I am focused enough. My aim is to create quality work that reader's can truly enjoy, without getting lost in a confusing plot. So please, let me know if things too wordy or ambiguous, or if I'm making anything too busy, or not developing a character/concept enough. I welcome criticism!**

 **TL/DR: This chapter is freshly edited, and I will be slowly editing published chapters to improve them. I hope to hear from readers on how they think I'm doing. Please, enjoy the story and leave a review!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to Star Wars. I do not get paid for my published work. This story is purely reacreational and non-canon, but contains canon-compliant elements leading up to the end of The Last Jedi. As such, TLJ spoilers apply. Proceed at your own risk.**

 **Chapter I: A Shockwave Unraveling Threads in Its Wake**

He paced frantically about, his wild eyes darting around the room, as if he expected something - _anything -_ to suddenly appear in front of him. It was maddening, but he felt if he stopped, his body would shut down, leaving him trapped in a mental prison he could never escape. The only way he could hold on to a small semblance of control over himself, to prevent snapping and becoming a complete madman, was to keep moving. Keep moving and hold on to the only emotion he could bear to feel right now. Rage.

As he allowed his fury to boil over, he spun around and punched his fist into the wall. It shuddered under the impact, the aftershock sending bits of plastered ash falling to the floor. Small cracks began to form around his imprint like lava channels. When that didn't satisfy him, he lividly grabbed the nearest object he could find off a side table and catapulted it across the chamber, a guttural growl escaping his lips as it shattered against the far wall. Ceramic shards flew everywhere. He hated that vase with an all-consuming passion in that moment, though the logic as to why currently escaped him. But projecting his emotions on inanimate objects was a waste of time. He needed to kill. That was the only thing that would satiate his tormented soul, he was certain of it.

But there wasn't a soul within reach to be sacrificed. So, with a murderous snarl, he activated his light saber and slashed through the furniture of his living quarters, screaming at the top of his lungs, thrashing wildly about, until the room began to spin away from him in a dizzying flurry and he finally ran out of breath. He deactivated the saber and let it drop to the floor before collapsing against the wall behind him, allowing himself to slump down into a crumpled mass of jaded defeat. He could no longer hold back the thoughts and emotions that threatened to tear him apart. The floodgate in the back of him mind burst open, and he stared blankly into a pit of nothingness as it all came rushing through.

She had cut him off. It had only been a few days since the events on Crait, where their link was permanently detached, cauterized, like a light saber searing into the very _flesh_ of the force. He didn't know what to do. Coming untethered had left him stranded on a failing ship, drifting aimlessly into space. The day she'd come to him, he bared his soul to her. At least, that's what he kept telling himself. He'd let his guard down as much as he dared, allowing a show of intimacy he would have _never_ permitted with anyone. _EVER_. He had been so sure of what the future held for them; the bond was so strong between them.

But like everything else in his life, that too was ripped away from him. Everything had been reduced to ruins, crashing down faster than a TIE fighter in the hands of an incompent Resistance pilot. It was a spectacular display of fire and embers, raining down in a crumbling throne room. It was a macabre presentation of dead bodies on the floor, and the final act was a light saber explosion. She really knew how to leave a lasting impression. A magnificent disaster, indeed. The only way he knew how to cope was to recede further into the darkness; into the black shadows of his mind.

But that girl. That stupid, infuriatingly inexperienced, _beautiful_ woman. She was his downfall, and he couldn't be rid of her even with the connection destroyed. He didn't want to admit that he had been humiliated by her rejection, and that made him even more irate. How could he possibly care for her, while simultaneously loathing her this much? His indignation deepened as he tried to rectify the immense conflict that jeopardized his emotional wellness. He was an unstable reactor, ready to go off with the mere push of a button. He _needed_ her, with every _fiber_ of his being. And she was going to kill him.

He couldn't let that happen. Everything he had worked for, the power he'd fought so hard to gain; he refused to let it be all for nothing. He wouldn't let her strip him of more than she already had. He wasn't going down without a fight, and neither was she. He had no choice. He needed to destroy her before she could destroy him. It was the only way to stop his untimely demise. This was a matter of life and death. Fight or flight. This was _war_. And he would annihilate any and all obstacles in his path to be rid of this threat. Forget strategic planning and biding time to rebuild his defenses. Logic and reason be damned. It was time to let the First Order die. The Sith. The Jedi. The Resistance. All of it. For his own sanity, he needed to find her. He was going to end this, once and for all. He was going to end HER. _Whatever it takes._

* * *

She hated him. Despised everything he stood for. Loathed his existence. The bond they had shared, the force she thought was pulling them together, had ultimately proved to be a cruel mirage. A beguilement in the wake of betrayal. How could he so arrogantly assume that she would – no – that she COULD ever stand by his side, to take up his depraved cause as her own? Could he not see how _blinded_ he was by bloodlust? That this deception he allowed to rule his mind would bring nothing but destruction? To think he could have power AND her, that he could still be a dark prince and have her heart, was blasphemy. The idea that she could ever darken herself to be with him made her sick. Her heart was broken beyond repair.

 _This is not going to go the way you think._ Luke's words lingered in her mind. He had been right. She allowed her emotions to get the best of her; her feelings for Ben had gotten in the way. Had she _really_ expected a different outcome? He was too far gone. Kylo Ren had killed him long ago. It was a fool's errand, and absurdly naïve of her to think she could resurrect a dead man from the grave. They were both obstinate. She could admit that. Both were determined to pull each other from one side to the other. They were attempting to best each other in a battle of wills, but it always ended in a stalemate. The dark and the light. There was no middle ground; there could be no compromise. Only complete surrender, one way or another. Anything less was a rejection sure to breed resentment. It already had.

She cursed his name, the one he'd bestowed upon himself. He considered himself a knight, but it was such an ostentatious title in her eyes. It carried no merit. It didn't make him greater, or award him a new identity of who he wanted to be. It was just another mask to hide behind. A license to do evil without guilt or consequence. It was a stark reminder of his cataclysmic servitude to the darkness, and nothing else.

She saw past the facades and illusions though. She could see who he was, who he _really_ was behind his mask. A child in a man's body, cowardly and petulant, prone to tantrums and using manipulation to get his way. But he was also frightened. And alone. She understood that all too well. She caught glimpses of a more vulnerable side of him, of Ben. And that's who she wanted to fight for. That's who she held out hope for. But after it was all said and done, he had wounded her spirit deeply. He knew what he was doing and how it would hurt her. He did it anyway. Even an ill-behaved child knows better. They can still see the marked boundaries. They may push and poke, testing the limits. But at the end of the day, they recognize there are lines you should never cross. They know better. _He_ knew better too. Or at least, he should have.

She remembered his words in the Supreme Leader's throne room, after they'd fought side by side, defeating their enemies together. She thought he had come to his senses. Her heart skipped when he offered her a place by his side. But his proposition was laced with a pretense that instantly hit her stomach like poison. She felt as if the force was being drained from her all together. It was a bitter pill to swallow, and no amount of sugar could disguise the acridity. He practically offered the universe to her, but he only craved to rule; to create a new order and use her power to strengthen him. He was so shrouded by the blackness in his soul, he couldn't see her, _truly_ see her, through it all.

She begged him not to go that way. She inwardly willed him to come back to the light. Instead, he lashed out at her. He wanted her to let go of the past. He baited her with the knowledge that her parents had abandoned her, discarding her like refuse for their own selfish gains. He told her she had no place in this story. She had come from nothing. _She_ was nothing. Her cheeks burned as the tears tracked stinging trails down her face. _But not to me._ He'd said it with such conviction, and it tore her apart. Because, even then, his efforts to show any form of caring were back-handed and biting. Didn't he feel it? Couldn't he see how he'd undone her heart strings? He had taken hold of her emotions, weaving his tangled web so intricately, that she blindly walked into his trap. She hadn't guarded herself enough. She was too innocent and trusting. Her hope became a snare she'd set for herself, and he took full advantage. She could never forgive herself for that. She could never forgive _him_ for that.

Everything after that moment, when he'd held out his hand to her, beseeching her to join him, blurred together into a vortex of distant recollections. Reaching out. The force taking over her senses. The light saber breaking in half. Her escape back to what was left of the Resistance. Helping them flee from his wrath, once she found them. Her instinctive reactions had solidified her status with him as an eternal nemesis. She was all too painfully aware of that when she felt the connection form between them one last time. The deed was done, choices had been made, and the aftermath that followed was devastating.

She had fervently prayed that this had all been a nightmare. If she could somehow jolt herself awake, she'd come back to reality. But this WAS reality, and the sight of him now crushed her. She couldn't bear it. He'd only seen her for a fleeting moment before she closed the door. In _that_ fraction of time, she saw his eyes. And she knew. She knew he truly hated her. And she hated him. She had to. It was the only thing she could cling to right now. Because if she didn't, she was sure she would simply wither up and be blown away by the wind. But somewhere, in the depths of her subconscious, behind a sealed door that she wasn't brave enough to open; that's where the _truth_ lied. The gut-wrenching truth she couldn't deny in her soul. She loved him. The boy trying to escape the hell within himself. Ben Solo. She _loved_ him. And she would have died a thousand times to bring him back from the underworld if she could. But Kylo Ren had purged any lingering trace of him that day on Crait. And she _hated_ him for it. She hated that _monster_. That _creature_. _Creature in a mask._


	2. Chapter II

Chapter II: Rage Against Dying Embers in The Night

He had been restless long after he'd lain down and closed his eyes. Tossing, turning, unable to still his mind and let sleep overtake him. His sheets were a tangled mess, hanging halfway off the bed, they might as well not have been there at all. He couldn't stop replaying his last encounter with her, mulling over it in his head again and again. He wanted to capture and torture her mercilessly. He wanted her to _feel_ his pain. A swift death was too good a punishment for her. These emotions were driving him insane, he wanted to raze the entire galaxy, just so he wouldn't have to feel anything anymore. But that would not bring him relief.

Kylo had had enough. Springing up from the bed, he traversed the room in a few short strides towards the refresher. The best thing to sedate his nerves and tension right now was intense heat. Soaking under a scalding spray of water should bring a temporary reprieve. He turned the water on, waiting until it was barely tolerable before stripping down and getting in. The steam was so thick, one could almost choke on it if not careful, and the water hit his skin with a simmering sizzle, hardly audible unless he cleared his head and meditated with enough concentration. He could feel the heat rising up around him. It was like steeping in a hot spring. His thoughts began to melt away, his mind became clearer as he stood in the middle of the stream. He eventually leaned back against the wall, attempting to relieve the pressure on his feet from standing, exerting as little physical effort as possible. He needed to be fully relaxed if he was going to become drowsy enough to give into the night. He cautiously lowered himself to the floor of the shower, the water still beating down in a steady flow, the heat now having seeped into his skin enough to bring out a red hue and limber up his muscles. Momentarily, he closed his eyes and his mind began to drift, absent-mindedly.

Somehow, he always came back to her. Even when he _hated_ her, when his only desire was to _kill_ her, he couldn't stop himself from thinking about moments they'd shared through the bond. Neither one of them had asked for it. They were adversaries, and he'd never in a _million_ _lifetimes_ consider her to be anything else. Not until they'd been quite literally forced together across the stars through a supernatural connection. He'd assumed she was the one controlling it at first. That she had somehow found a way to infiltrate his thoughts and spy on him, in a clever strategy that would render him incapable of reinforcing his mental walls before she found whatever critical information she'd been probing for. If she had the ability to intrude on him like this, then she must be aiding the Resistance in a planned attack on the First Order. It was the most logical motive he could come up with.

It didn't take long, however, to figure out that neither one of them had power over _it_. It was clear now that the force had a mind of its own, and they could no more avoid it than they could influence it to their own concealed benefits. So, it carried on, initially as an irritating nuisance, but then, eventually, it metamorphosed into something else entirely. He remembered how startled she was when they first connected, and she tried to blast him to smithereens. It had caught him off guard, and the pain he felt was so real. When it ebbed off and he realized he hadn't _actually_ been wounded, she faded away just as quickly as she had appeared. He inwardly chuckled about it now, a hint of something like a smile curling up around the corners of his mouth. She was always bold and feisty. He may not have wanted to admit it, but he admired her tenacity. Her spunk. The fact that she didn't take orders from _anyone_ , she relied on her own conscience to guide her, and she couldn't be easily swayed or discouraged. She had such strong convictions and a will power that rivaled his own.

Every time they had connected, she surprised him with something new. He had never met ANYONE who could have so many emotions and be so sure of themselves like she was. And when she willingly let her walls down in front of him, the night they had touched, he felt a trace of something deeper radiating off of her, something he had no words for but had made him feel… _whole_. He knew what he had seen when their hands met. The electricity in the air was stifling, and the moment he accepted her silent invitation, reaching his fingers toward hers, it altered everything in his mind that had happened before that point, and everything to come after. It was part of the reason he _knew_ , deep within his soul, that the visions they'd shared were meant to pull them together, to balance each other so they could form a powerful alliance.

He let out an exasperated sigh. None of that mattered now. He couldn't reach her in the end. She'd locked him out and barricaded the door so that it could never be reopened. He started floating back down to base, his head no longer stuck on distant worlds. There was no point in imagining what could have been. _It is what it is, there will be no turning back from here._ That simple statement was enough to pull him out of his wistful trance. He casually rose up off the shower floor to shut off the water. Stepping out, he grabbed a towel to dry off with. Once he had redressed, he lazily stumbled towards the bed, finally ready to enter a calming stupor. Now it was time to take a rest. No more longing aspirations of a second chance. Tonight, he would sleep. Tomorrow, he would embark on his quest for vengeance. Until then, dark phantoms would claim him in the silence as everything slipped away. Enter the shadowlands.

* * *

The days had dragged on, and Rey was growing weary. Everything was disorienting, a constant state of urgency and unrest. The Resistance was floundering, doing their best to veil themselves, but they were teetering on the edge of danger, no matter where they fled. At least for tonight, they'd found a place to settle for a much-needed respite, and they could breathe a little easier, if only for a short while. Their makeshift camp, if you could even call it that, had been set up in the middle of Maker knows where. There was no coverage overhead, here there were only rock formations and dirt, with the occasional boulder to enhance the dreary landscape. Though she was grateful to be here, amongst people she knew she could trust, Rey felt as though being back on Jakku would be less lonely at the moment.

But somewhere, at the base of her brain, a dull ache was forming, and it seemed to whisper to her, hinting that she wasn't as alone as she thought she was. She tried to passively shrug off the feeling as a simple headache, a side effect of her mental and physical exhaustion. If she was being honest with herself though, it terrified her. The bond had been broken when Snoke died, she was adamantly convinced of that. Her last vision of Kylo was merely a fading apparition, as the few remaining tendrils of their connection shriveled away. Still, she struggled to find peace.

Part of her felt obligated to tell someone what she had been through, to unburden herself and find reassurance that the worst was over. But she dared not trust another soul with such a treacherous secret. Her doubts told her that she would surely be accused of working with that vile monster, or that he had somehow manipulated their connection and could force it back open, making her liable to the safety of the Resistance. She couldn't chance lowering her defenses and opening up to anyone, just as she couldn't risk the security of her companions if this subtly gnawing pit that was taking root inside of her was more than just a combination of malnourishment and paranoia. For now, she needed to keep her mind as closed as possible, under tight lock and key. It was the only way to ensure survival, though she wasn't sure if it was her own self-preservation, or the conservation of everyone else she was most concerned with.

The evening was waning, and she couldn't suppress her fatigue any longer. Making her way to their temporary inventory station (which looked an awful lot like a disorganized pile on the ground… because it was), she managed to find a rough bit of fabric that could somewhat pass for a blanket. She rummaged through the chaos a little more until she found something suitable enough for a pillow. It slightly resembled a tattered knapsack, whatever the force it was, and certainly had no practical use for anything of necessity anymore. But as far as essential basics go, it would suffice. Something like a half snort, half giggle, momentarily escaped her mouth when a semi-delusional image unexpectedly popped into her head of herding a bunch of porgs into the sack thing and trapping them there to serve as stuffing for better cushioning. In fact, she would more than welcome an invasion of porgs, as annoying as they could be with their incessant noises, if it meant she could wrap herself up in their warmth like a feather down comforter. Her mind began to wander somewhat incoherently now, and she mused at the fact that porg calls were essentially hybrid screeches concocted of shrieking monkeys and squawking seagulls. _Ridiculous._ And how on earth did they seem to multiply like rabbits? _Perhaps they reproduce through mitosis._ Another absurd though. She shook her head and let out a sigh. She desperately needed sleep before she turned into a complete lunatic.

She chose to break away from the others. She needed space more than anything, which sounded ironic to her considering how much space they had recently traversed. Nobody stopped or questioned her, everyone was recuperating after current events, and while those closest to her had taken note of her downtrodden appearance and reclusiveness, they couldn't blame her for it. Not after what took place on Crait and how it had affected them all. The rest of the crew chocked it up to stress and the overexertion she must have put herself through, using the force to liberate them from the cave they'd been trapped in. They weren't wrong of course, multiple factors were trying to push her to her breaking point, but these things were only partial truths. The real cause of her perceived demeanor was considerably more complicated, even for herself to comprehend.

Once she finally felt she had put enough distance between herself and the campsite, she examined her surrounds to find a decent spot. The ground here was peppered with small rocks, and it was very uneven for the most part. But she shortly succeeded in finding a flat patch with fewer pebbles, and she spread her crude bedding out and laid down under the stars. It was far from comfortable, and she knew her body would be unbearably stiff in the morning, despite how sore she already was from being in cramped quarters on the Falcon for a prolonged period. But she shifted her focus away from her achiness and back towards the calming atmosphere above. The sky was a rich navy blanket, bold and deep, but soft and inviting. Tiny pinpoints of light began to blend together in her mind, giving the appearance of waves rolling across an endless sea. She briefly pictured herself staring out at the ocean on Ahch-To. She could almost smell the aromatic scent of the salt water, wafting to her with every cool breeze. It was paradise. How she longed to go back there and hide away from the rest of the universe. She could stay there forever and be perfectly content. Maybe she would one day. The time for running was at an end for now, though. She hadn't properly rested in days, and she couldn't hold out much longer. Gingerly shifting onto her side, she pulled a corner of the thin covering around her as best as she could. Her eyes flittered stubbornly for a few moments longer, before her body finally succumbed to a deep slumber. One last thought trailed through her mind as she slipped out of consciousness. _The force bond is dead. And so is Ben. Kylo Ren can't reach me anymore._ The night went black.


	3. Chapter III

Chapter III: Remnants of Phantom Whispers in The Wind

It drifted along on a gentle wind, so subtle, dancing around the edge of his senses, beckoning, enticing him to awaken and immerse himself in its alluring charms. As the fragrance grew stronger, he subconsciously inhaled, and the soothing sounds that followed gradually stirred him from his sleep. As he slothfully opened his eyes, he became aware of the absence of walls in his chamber. He drowsily rose to sit up, and realized he was no longer in his bed. _Something's not right._ He roughly rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands. He looked around, still blinking away the tiredness. As his alertness finally returned, he began to drink in the view. He was sitting on a cliffside, and far below, majestic waves were crashing into the rocks, releasing a burst of intoxicating saltwater air with every rhythmic collision. A splash in the distance drew his eyes towards the waters just beyond the cliff. A sea creature had leapt high above the surface of the wave before diving back in, flawlessly in sync with the ocean swells.

He knitted his brows together, puzzled by his surroundings. He had never had such vivid dreams before. Nightmares, yes. But something pleasing and serene? _Never._ He found his balance, standing up from where he'd been perched, and quickly became aware that he wasn't anywhere he recognized. He was on an island. It felt so familiar. _I know this place. How do I know this place?_ Upon further inspection, more elaborate details came into view. Stone steps traced lines all across the island. He could see other various stone structures spanning a great distance. And far below he could see a plateau giving full access to the ocean. Everything felt so familiar to him. The scent is what clung to his memory the most. _I've smelled this air before. Those waves. I remember the sound._ He closed his eyes to try and place the pieces of the puzzle together. Suddenly, a large wave splashed somewhere behind him, the water falling, spraying down like the reverberations of a geyser. It instantly hits him and he opens his eyes, searching frantically. _Rey. She's here._

All those times when they had bridged the gap across the bond came tumbling into view. He couldn't see where she was, he only ever saw her. But he could sense things. He could still taste, hear, and smell everything she did. He had even felt the water spraying down on him during one of their moments together, just before she faded away. The hairs on his neck slightly rose up, and he could feel the goose bumps forming. The memory of their tie to each other let off such an energy here, it was almost palpable. He closed his eyes again. _It feels so similar to –_ his eyes snapped open hastily. Something was off. He could feel the signature now. It was so faint it had been imperceptible before, masked by what he thought was a lingering reverie. But this was something else. A revelation slowly unfolded in his mind. _This isn't my dream. I shouldn't be here. The only connection I have to this place is through… her._

It was impossible. He shook his head in disbelief and swallowed harshly, his mouth had run dry. He couldn't have conjured up a perfect replica of this place, he didn't even know where he was. He knew it had to be her. His heart raced at the implications. He froze up, unsure of what to do. He was assaulted with a multitude of emotions so potent, he quickly spun out of control. Adrenaline. She had opened the bond again. It made him feel heady. She wanted him here. Was she changing her mind? Did she decide to come back to him? Kylo suddenly felt sick, remembering how she had left. What was he thinking? She wanted nothing to do with him. She _hated_ him. And he hated _her_. He resisted the urge to buckle at his knees and fall to the ground, retching violently.

 _This is a trick._ He began to hit a downward spiral. _She's brought me here to play mind games. She's taunting me, she wants to provoke me._ Now the rage was beginning to set in. He gritted his teeth and clenched his fists. He was going to find her and lay into her. She dared to pull him back into the fray, and he was going to show her what it REALLY meant to flirt with the dark side. She would not escape here unscathed.

He decided to trudge down the cliffside, determined to reach the plateau below. He scanned the landscape as he made progress down the steep, uneven terrain. No sign of her anywhere. He gritted his teeth tighter. He could now hear the blood pumping in his ears. This was maddening. He continued to hike down, pausing when he found himself level to the plateau several yards in front of him. He examined the flat. There was a dark pit now in his view, in the middle of the plane, lined with seaweed. The plateau itself stretched out further, between walls of rock, and the waves lapped enthusiastically along the edge. He felt himself being drawn to the pit for unexplained reasons. Instinctively, his breath hitched in his throat, and he was paralyzed for a moment when he thought he heard a bidding whisper calling to him from the pit. Cautiously, he stepped forward, warily eying the dark hole, contemplating on investigation, against his better judgement. And then he saw her. _Rey._

He froze again as he took in her visage. She was sitting with her legs tucked up against her chest, arms wrapped around, hugging her knees tightly as she stared out at the ocean, lost in her own world. She wasn't far from the seaweed pit, to Maker knows where, and he couldn't help but draw in another sharp breath. She was wearing the same clothes she always wore, and he could see the tell-tale signs of greasy stains and dirt all over her outfit. No doubt her hands and face were dirty too. He wagered a guess that she hadn't had access to a refresher in days. But her hair had been let down, and the breeze was blowing through her tresses, making them swirl and dance in the wind. And the way the night sky shone soft beams down on her skin, made her glow with a silvery aura. He had to admit, seeing her like this left him breathless. _Maker, she's gorgeous._ He caught himself off guard, alarmed by the impulsive thought. This was what she always did. Somehow trapping him in an enchanting snare, using her beauty to captivate and lure him in, like a moth to a flame. _I will NOT be deluded by her. This is just a ruse, a poor attempt to wrap me around her fingers so she can destroy me. This will NOT STAND!_

He shook his head vigorously, attempting to regain his resolve. But then he sensed something peeking out from the edge of her mind. _If I can infiltrate her thoughts, I can discover how she plans to attack me._ He pushed against the mental door, treading carefully so he won't be noticed. He searched her thoughts, but found nothing useful. She wasn't thinking about him at all. This disappointed him a little, though he didn't know why. He clenched his fist, aggravated by his lack of control, and pushed further, determined to break through and unveil whatever she's hiding from him. Something cool washed over him. It was a peculiar sensation. _She's peaceful here._ He drew a breath hesitantly, then probed beyond her initial defenses. A wall of overwhelming emotion suddenly blocked him, causing him to seize up. _Pain. Unbearable pain. And grief. And dejection. She feels lost. And alone. Abandoned. She thinks I abandoned her._ He felt a pang of guilt tightening his chest. It took him a moment to process the feeling, before he steeled himself once again, summoning his own feelings of betrayal and hurt so that he could take hold of the anger that had briefly been pushed down in his moment of weakness.

This had to stop _now_. He knew what he needed to do. He took a single step forward and then planted himself at the far edge of the plateau, where he knew she would sense his presence. "Why have you brought me here?" He demanded in a booming voice, expecting her to jump in alarm. To his surprise, she didn't react. "Tell me why I'm here! NOW!" He raised his voice and ventured forward a few steps. "Rey, turn around and ANSWER ME!" He began to feel the heat rising, blood rushing to color his flustered expression. But she didn't move. She didn't even flinch. He became irate and screamed at the top of his lungs as he continued to approach her from the side. "REY! TELL ME WHY YOU BROUGHT ME HERE!" He saw her lift her head, suddenly, so he stopped, only a few feet between them now. _NOW you decide to respond. How thoughtful of you to regard me, your highness._ He glared at her in disgust, waiting impatiently for her to respond. She turned towards him, but her eyes were darting along the landscape, as if he wasn't even there. She paused and stared right through him, which only infuriated him more. "So NOW you're giving me the silent treatment? Pretending I'm INVISIBLE? WHO THE KRIFF DO YOU THINK YOU'RE MESSING WITH?!" He swiftly moved to face her, towering over her small frame. She furrowed her brows, seemingly confused, as she turned to face him in front of her, before resting her head on her knees forlornly. This caused another rise out of him, so he crouched down to her level, digging his fingers into the sleek rock, and snarled deeply, spit flying from his mouth as he berated her. "How DARE you ignore me. Do you think you can elicit sympathy from ME?! I won't hesitate to rip you apart, limb by limb, SCAVENGER SCUM! YOU. ARE. NOTHING!" And at that moment he pounded his fist into the ground beside her, as lighting and thunder simultaneously erupted in the distance, causing Rey to jump and look up at him, terror blanketing her face.

Kylo couldn't resist maliciously smiling, but his haughty stare soon disappeared as he realized she wasn't looking at him, but up towards the sky behind him. He growled in her face. "What the KRIFF are you looking at?!" He leaned forward, intending to grab her roughly by the shoulders and shake her, but no sooner had his hands grazed her arms when another loud clap and searing explosion of light caused them both to fall backwards. He slipped on a slick vine of seaweed, shock and bewilderment settling over him. A violent tempest began to brew, and the atmosphere shifted, pulling the breath from his lungs. He had no idea what was going on, but as he observed Rey looking around frantically, realization came crashing down on him rapidly.

 _Ben._ She whispered it softly through the bond, before speaking aloud. "Ben?" Kylo stared wide-eyed at her in disbelief. She continued to search the plateau as the storm grew wilder. He saw tears welling up in her eyes as she cried out this time. "Ben? Is that you?" It was clear now. Kylo stayed locked in place, unable to find his voice or move. _She has no idea I'm here. She can't see me. She can't hear me. She can't feel me. I'm a ghost in a dream… a nightmare._ He attempted to stand up, unable to process what was taking place, when he felt him self suddenly being dragged out towards the ocean by a force beyond his control. He began to panic as the distance between Rey and himself grew wider. "No… NOOOO!" He forced out in a visceral shriek. But everything began to grow dim, and he heard her final cries, fading into oblivion. "BEN! WHERE ARE YOU?! COME BACK TO ME, COME BACK!" Before he could reply, he felt himself plunging into blackness. And then, all was silent.


	4. Chapter IV

**AN: Hey guys! I apologize for the lengthy delay. I meant to update this much sooner, but I got sick and have been in bed for the past few days. I am finishing up a new chapter for the prequel - Begin, End, Begin Again (I'll Come Back) - as well. That should hopefully be up within the next hour or so. If you haven't checked it out already, I encourage you to do so! It will eventually overlap with this story, and skipping back and forth between the timelines actually makes the unfolding plot more exciting, IMO. Anyways, enjoy the new chapter, I promise there will be another update quicker than the last one!**

Chapter IV: Fear Lurks Behind Closed Doors

Rage. You see it through the eyes. When they go black. When they pierce through your heart, cutting straight to your soul. Lace it with hate, and you'll see those black eyes, rimmed in red. And they'll no longer just settle for a swift, painless death. Now, they'll be latching hold of your essence, something that can't be described, that goes beyond mind, spirit, soul, or body. And once they've taken the first stab, they'll revel in it, they'll pause long enough for you to react, with your fear, your screams, your shock and horror. And then, once that initial rush begins to wear off, they'll be ripping every part of you to shreds, every fiber, every plane of your existence that you never knew you had.

And once the adrenaline dies down again, they'll light your body on fire, because bloodlust and greed are now pushing through the layers of their glower. It burns you alive, if looks could kill, if you hadn't stopped breathing and feeling already, because your mind, spirit, soul, and body are severed, each from the other now. You could be watching your lifeless form on the floor as your spirit floats away beyond everything. Or, you could be trapped in your mind in a room that's ablaze, but you can't tell if you're still feeling from your physical shell, or if you've finally descended into the pits of hell, and your conscience is the prison, forcing you to relive all your sins, except YOU are the one being violated by the things you did to others.

But in the end, you're still writhing in agony on a cold floor that won't soothe, your smoke-filled lungs feel like wet cement, and your vocal chords are frayed by the thousands of tiny daggers stabbing your throat. And once you're screams have died down and you're no longer moving, breathing, feeling, anything, you're just… gone; that's when the thirst will finally be slaked, and the black in their eyes turns to harsh, grey ash, the red rings now smoldering embers, glowing in hues of brilliant oranges and yellows.

This deadly potion of rage, hate, bloodlust, and greed; this is the crux that fuels dark power. It's the driving force behind wars, combatting for supremacy. It's the need for conquest that creates obsession. And when that addiction grows beyond itself, it destroys from within, until there is nothing left but emptiness and craving for something more. It transforms and disfigures once pure souls, until their faces are recognizable, no more; because the only thing you see is poison in their eyes. It's everything that the dark side is. And it's everything that Kylo Ren is _not_. Not anymore.

* * *

He stood there with indifferently crossed arms and an expressionless gaze. He normally has a million thoughts running through his head, and twice as many emotions to pair with each one, but right now all he _feels_ is nothingness and he's drawing blanks, so the closest thing to sentiment he can manage to muster up is boredom. And he's absolutely _sick_ of standing here, idly, like a mindless statue, waiting for something, _anything_ to happen, while he actively disregards the purposeless prattle that's persistently renting the air.

A flustered general, with his shock of impossibly red hair, is beginning to turn an inconceivable shade of scarlet, and it's, quite frankly, an impressive feat. At least, by Kylo's standards. And as he shifted his weight, arms still crossed, he continued to vex the aspiring Zeltron - or perhaps he's more partial to Red Pachydermoids – by blatantly ignoring him. After another minute of his crescendoing jargon, apathy gradually gave way to trivial amusement, however fleeting it may be.

Deviously, he arched a brow that was scarcely noticeable, but the trailing smirk is decidedly not. The corner of his mouth is already inclined at a ridiculous angle, before one Armitage Hux interrupts his own lecture with a disgruntled huff. "Are you even paying attention? I don't think you've heard a single word I've said! This is too urgent of a discussion for you to be shirking responsibilities, or have you forgotten your _rank_ already? And just _what_ is so amusing about all this, anyway?!" He crossed his arms, and tapped his foot impatiently.

Kylo's brow rose more intently, before settling into a dark, wicked grin, with just a _hint_ of indignation mixing with monotony behind it. "Tread lightly, General. You're two tints shy of resembling a very dead and bloody Praetorian. Or have _you_ forgotten _your_ rank already? It would be a shame, for my first, significantly strategic act as Supreme Leader, to be wasted on scouring the galaxy for a competent replacement. And _that_ would be an ill-timed move, with Captain Phasma still in recovery, and in no condition to lead. Wouldn't you agree?" He sneered as he turned his attention to his now outstretched arm, his elbow resting on the other still folded across his chest. He began to flex his hand, making fists, then extending his fingers outward again. The tension was palpable as Hux swallowed harshly.

And though he thought it was virtually unattainable for the ruddy-haired general to achieve a new pigment of crimson, he far exceeded the Supreme Leader's expectations. Something like a goading flicker, flashed behind Kylo's calculated stare. Hux took a step backward, blinking intermittently as he defensively stretched his palms outward. "I – I meant no offense, your Supremacy, please. I was only trying to inform you of some necessary actions that need to be taken regarding our protocols and procedures. In fact, the captain – ", his voice faltered ever so slightly, so he licked his lips and took a breath to steady himself, while running a nervous finger around the rim of his collar. "The captain is precisely the reason I requested a private debriefing with you. Our troops need an active captain, and we currently do not have one, until Captain Phasma is fully recovered. _And_ , as Supreme Leader, it is _your_ duty to appoint temporarily acting officers in the field." He clasped his hands behind his back as he waited, apprehensively, for a response.

Kylo reveled in the general's uneasiness for only a moment, before his mood changed to a worn-down level of annoyance. He was right of course. The Supreme Leader was responsible for appointing leaders to keep everyone in line and on task. Kylo hated when Hux was right. He may have plans to dismantle the First Order as they knew it, but he still needed an army, and he could not go to war without loyal troops who were confident in his decisions. He honestly didn't have the patience or resourcefulness for tactics and strategy. His talents were best put to use at the front line. He trained for hours on end, honing his fighting skills and his connection with the force. He didn't have time to think about the mundaneness of appointing ranked officials to head the rest of his fleet.

It might have almost led him to rethink taking on the role of Supreme Leader. Almost. Instead, Kylo sucked in a sharp breath and considered the sad excuse of a man before him. With an arched brow and a severe air of superiority, he hissed out his demands. "You are dangerously approaching the end of my patience, general, and I'm sure you realize how short of a path that walk is." Hux stiffened as he nervously held his breath. "I suggest, if I am to fulfill my duties in a timely manner, that you attend to yours and find me some suitable candidates to consider. And if there's nothing further you wish to discuss, I highly recommend you initiate this recruitment process promptly. If you neglect to find suitable contenders by the end of the day, I assure you, you'll have much more to worry about then whether or not you believe I am doing an acceptable job as Supreme Leader. Is _that_ appointed task _clear_ enough for you, General Hux?"

He held out his hand once more, this time pulling Hux within inches of his face, so he could bore into his eyes with his resolved stare. Hux swallowed audibly, then cleared his throat before rasping out in a strained murmur. "Crystal… your Supremacy. Right away." He was released and immediately began to rub his hands across his throat as he stumbled to his knees, wheezing and coughing, before looking up to catch a final glimpse of black waves whipping about, as Kylo's tall form rounded the corner and vanished from sight.

* * *

Pain. Loss. Sorrow. Confusion. These are the volatile currents that threaten sweep away and break one's spirit. If no actions are taken to remedy the effects of such powerful emotions, they will inevitably claim their victim, pulling them under as they struggle not to drown in an ocean of hopelessness. The only way to combat such a deadly threat, is to replace those sentiments with fiercer, more powerful passions.

Rage. Hate. Bloodlust. Greed. Unfortunately, these are the substitutes that, more often than not, take over. Before you even realize what's going on, you have already lost restraint of your temperance, and nothing else matters anymore, except the desire for power and domination over the things you can still control. But this does not erase the truth, it only hides it away for a time, until something, or _someone_ , happens to break through and open the floodgates to wash over you once again.

So, rage becomes the facade for pain. Hate helps conceal loss and the sorrow that comes from such a hopeless place. Bloodlust and greed masquerade as confidence and security, in an attempt to tamp down confusion, aimlessness and simply feeling lost. It was becoming harder for Kylo to deny that who he thought he was, wasn't the same man he now saw staring back at him through the looking glass. And he truly was lost now. Lost and broken and no place to go from here.

He paced about the room, pausing now and then to examine the new furniture that replaced the pieces he had demolished. There were rough patch jobs speckling the wall he'd taken part of his frustrations out on. He had been so convinced, so resolved is his next course of action. But now, he was alone in his quarters, with nothing but time on his hands, and he couldn't hold off processing the things he'd dreamt about the night before. Mulling it over on an endless loop, he only found himself falling deeper into a pit of uncertainty and longing. His self-control was on a shorted circuit, threatening to set off an explosion and blow apart the walls he'd built with his bitterness and animosity.

He sat down in a freshly supplied chair and, with his elbows resting on his knees, he rubbed his eyes with his palms then raked his fingers through his hair. _What am I doing?_ He played through it again. Seeing her. His immediate skepticism. Trying to get inside her head, unsuccessfully. And the resentment. Oh, the resentment, it sliced through him just as painfully as when she had scarred him on Starkiller. He couldn't… no… he _wouldn't_ believe that she wasn't aware she had drawn him there. It had to all be a cruel ploy to get into his mind and under his skin. She _had_ to have been intentionally ignoring him. Mind games were the most perilous snares of war.

But what would she gain by provoking him? And why suddenly call out for him once the force began to rip him away? She wasn't calling out to him. She was calling out to _Ben_. Kylo let out a frustrated sigh. The more questions he asked, the less it all made sense. And he knew he wasn't really _that_ delusional. Rey had never deceived or lied to him. She was always reaching for him, even when he pushed her away. At least, until she shut the door on Crait. His suspicions and distrust stemmed from his _own_ actions. He was anticipating a counter attack. For her to stoop to his level and try to best him at his own game.

That wasn't Rey. That was all Kylo. He could feel his willpower wavering. All the negative emotions he'd used to fuel his determination were beginning to ebb. All that was left was the bewildering despondency. How was he supposed to reconcile this conflict inside of him? Her attempting to still reach out to Ben, even subconsciously, _should_ make him want to rain down wrath as swiftly as he could. His blood _should_ be boiling. But, somehow, all her efforts only made him want to fall on his knees and cry out for a redemption he could never have. Was he destined to live a tormented existence, torn between the darkness and _her_? It wasn't the light he wanted, he kept trying to convince himself of that. It was _her_. He wanted her in ways he had never wanted anyone or _anything_ before. And it was driving him to madness.

He rubbed at his eyes more abrasively, then grabbed fistfuls of his hair, pulling harshly. An agonized groan escaped his lips. He was so angst-ridden, he was starting to feel like his head would explode. The dull throb at the base of his skull would give him no mercy. Except it wasn't a throb. He was suddenly very aware of the hairs on the back of his neck, standing on end. He looked up just in time to see her come into view. She had her back turned to him. He gaped in disbelief. _You… you're here…._

She appeared to be talking with someone, or, rather, someone was talking with her. She occasionally nodded and made a small hand gesture. She was waiting for something. A piece of paper? Someone had handed her a piece of paper. She smiled and nodded again, this time waving with her free hand. Whoever she had been conversing with was now gone. Kylo held his breath, knowing she would sense him any minute now.

She suddenly stiffened. _You know I'm here. Turn around._ Hesitantly, she took a step and pivoted on her heels, coming to a stop once she was directly facing him. Her eyes widened, panic and shock prominently showing through. She dropped the memo she had been holding, her hands beginning to shake uncontrollably. Kylo watched it float towards the ground and disappear out of sight. Her whole body was seizing now. He started to stand up and speak, but before he had the chance to assure her that he wouldn't harm her, she vanished as quickly as she had materialized.

Kylo was alone, once again. Story of his life. He could write the galaxy's most depressing novel about it. Maybe he would, one day. His attention was startled back to reality with the ear-splitting sound of feedback coming through his personal intercom. He had no time to process what had just occurred. He punched the activation button irritably. "Speak." He growled the order. A petrified voice responded timidly. "Y-your, um, royal supremacy… lord, uh… leader. Sir? G-general Hux has procured t-the list… of candidates… that y-you requested. BB-9E should be arriving, with all the… the personnel files… at your quarters shortly… supremacy… sir." The voice let out a strained cough. Kylo shook his head and grunted in confirmation. "Yes, fine. Is there anything else?" The voice spoke again. "Sir? Oh… uh, I-I mean… no. No sir, t-that's all. G-good evening, your Supremacy…" Kylo rolled his eyes as he de-activated the com. He would not be disturbed for the rest of the night. Once the droid brought him the necessary documents, he would go to the refresher for a long overdue soak. He needed to unwind and put this miserable day behind him.


	5. Chapter V

**AN: I finally have a new chapter for you guys! It took me _forever_ to get through this one, I wanted to make sure the description of the Resistance's current hideout was just right. It's also the first time I've really delved into the development of a supporting character. The next chapter or so will actually be getting into more of the background character's POV and how Rey and Kylo's interactions with them really affect the storyline. I'm taking a break from the prequel for a couple of days so I can really focus on getting this story caught up to the next major dream sequence. It's been a slow start, but I feel like I'm finally getting into a steady rhythm with everything. Please, please, PLEASE post reviews and give me feedback! Enjoy the new chapter!**

 **Chapter V: Hope Escapes Through Open Windows**

Paralyzed. _There_ was the understatement of the year. Probably of her life. She couldn't move. She couldn't breathe. She was worlds away, unaware she even had a physical body somewhere in reality. Was coherent thought even possible? She couldn't even fathom that she was alive, standing in the middle of… somewhere… the location of which presently escapes her. Any concepts she could currently grasp at seem to be abstract. Formless. In flux. The only thing she was certain of is that she was dying. She would soon cease to exist, and now, she's just caught a glimpse of her final destination: Hell.

It wasn't possible. _He_ wasn't possible. This was some demented afterlife prank. Orchestrated by a _very_ deceased, and _very_ malevolent Snoke. Yes, there was no doubt that this was the work of a ghastly poltergeist. That, or the _force_ had finally forsaken her, cursing her to a fate even worse than mere mortality. Maker forbid she would find peace at the end. The universe was set against her, and she was doomed to an eternity of torment. Tied to _him_ forever. Where _he_ could plague her with his apparitional presence _at will_.

It never occurred to her that she wasn't _actually_ departing this life. Her mind and body had been disconnected for hours now. Or was it minutes? She was pretty sure the lights were dimming out, and nothing mattered anymore. She was slipping into the void beyond, and there would be no turning back now. But then, bright colors seemed to assault her vision, relentlessly, from every angle. She was suddenly cognizant enough to hear a distant ringing crescendo into a deafening siren, resonating throughout her bones. The excruciating throbbing that followed racked her temples so brutally, her jaw instantly locked up. She began to swoon, unable to combat the vertigo and nausea, though she didn't notice.

She was too busy going blind, deaf, and possibly mute, to realize that someone had been shouting her name. She was oblivious and unresponsive to any form of stimulation. She was long past sensory overload. She didn't feel the cold sweat drenching through her clothes. Or the chills coursing down her spine. Or the arms reaching out to grab her as she collapsed to the ground. Other than the searing pain that ripped through her skull, she felt nothing. And then, her entire body went numb, and she was plummeted into darkness as she lost consciousness.

* * *

The Resistance had a long road ahead of them. Recovery would not be easy, it they ever fully recovered at all. After fleeing Crait, they masked their flight to safety as best as they could, zig-zagging across hyperspace from one remote planet to another. Given their lack of immediate resources, it was a risky move, but they were out of viable options. Thankfully, the First Order seemed to be preoccupied just enough for them to slip by. Luke's sudden appearance bought them time to search for another way out of the cave. But it was Rey who saved them in those last critical moments before their enemies broke through.

The first few days were discouraging, to say the least. They made multiple attempts to transmit an SOS, to no avail, in the hope that any nearby allies would respond. By day four, most of them were ready to give up. They were exhausted, and the place they ended up making camp for the night was abysmally barren. But Leia had _never_ been one to give up without a fight. Chewie suggested to her that they try to reach out to Maz. It was a long shot, since they had no idea if she was anywhere in the vicinity to be able to pick up their signal.

Miraculously, _force_ be with them, she responded. They received word of a place on Takodana, an old, abandoned smuggler's den, where she could help them lay low. Maz also relayed that she would reach out to some of her crime contacts, to spread word of the Falcon being seen headed in a different direction. If they could make it to the hideout undetected, they would be able to replenish their supplies and regroup to figure out their next move.

The den was located in an isolated area, far away from Maz's castle, thank the Maker. It was well hidden, having been carved deep into a mountain side. It was an excellent spot to be taken advantage of. A natural waterfall provided even more coverage, veiling the entrance of a decent sized hangar. There, they would find three run-down, jump-ships. These would be useful for making supply runs on nearby planets.

There were only two ways to gain entrance into the shelter, the obvious point of access being through the hangar. But there was also an underground tunnel that could be used for emergency evacuation. It was a winding route that started along a plateau further up the rockface, near a camouflaged shed that housed a couple of speeders and a sled. There was a clearing not far from the shed with adequate space to land the Falcon. Maz had already warned them that the hangar was only large enough to hold the ships that were already there, so they would have to make do and try their best to keep the Falcon out of view.

The tunnel entrance was located a few feet away from the shed. It burrowed down into the mountain, connecting to a hidden entrance that opened up into a small lounge inside the base. From there, they had immediate access to a small, galley-style kitchen. There was an emergency stash of portions, enough for a crew of three or four to survive on for about a week. But there were twelve of them all together, which meant at _best_ they had a couple of days before running out, _if_ they carefully rationed and ate sparingly. They would need to get those jump-ships up and running as quickly as possible.

They did have a large, clean water source, at least. The waterfall concealing the hangar entrance cascaded into a pool, which connected to a river, eventually branching off into two smaller streams. The waterfall also powered the compound through a hidden hydroelectric system. Additionally, there was access to a couple of basic refreshers, affording them privacy and convenience so they wouldn't have to worry about straying far for hygienic needs.

There weren't many amenities to speak of, but the den had acceptable, if not rudimentary, areas to serve various purposes. Across from the lounge, next to the hangar entrance, was a small control room with outdated terminals for recon and surveillance. The terminals appeared to be functional, but they were currently offline, due to the communications antenna being in disrepair. There was a main corridor that divided each area in the bunker. In the opposite direction of the hangar, there was a small barracks on the same side of the corridor as the control room.

Six bunks were recessed into three of the walls, in stacks of two. They were fitted with basic bedding material and each bunk had their own privacy curtain. There was also a small supply closet just inside the barracks, next to a refresher that was fitted with toilets, faucets, and shower stalls; two of each. The supply closet had extra blankets and bedding, as well as some unmarked generic clothing. Across the corridor from the barracks was a larger storage room. It was completely empty, but would give them plenty of space to stow away provisions as they came by them.

Next to the storage room was a crude medbay, which had access to a second, smaller refresher. The medbay had two cots and an old, rusted medical station. There were minimal medical supplies, but they did find a few bacta patches, some salve, and a healing field generator. Overall, everything seemed to be in decent condition, and it would be enough to just scrape by. With Maz's help, they would be safe for the time being. Now, the only priorities were to stock up supplies, recuperate, and begin strategizing.

* * *

Poe Dameron wasn't the most level-headed person in the universe. Far from it. He also wasn't exactly a team player. But, he worked best under pressure, and he could eventually admit when he kriffed up… sometimes. After his recent track record of blatant defiance and recklessness, he needed to earn back the trust of his team members. But, more importantly, he needed to earn back the trust of General Organa.

So, he helped pilot supply runs to keep himself useful and busy. It was a start, and he had a sense of purpose, helping their small band survive to fight another day. He still struggled with suppressing his own urges towards action though. He knew they needed to lay low for a while, but a part of him wanted to seek revenge for the sacrifice Vice Admiral Holdo made for them. Maybe it was guilt for his part in their downfall. He was very clear about how he felt towards Holdo, but at the end of the day, his loyalty lied with anyone who held the Resistance's best interest at heart. And vengeance was an excellent motivator to stay driven and beat the odds. It would also give him the perfect outlet to focus his rage and adrenaline at something in full force.

For now, though, he would bite his tongue and do what he had to in order to keep himself out of trouble. BB-8 and Finn were a nice distraction for him. Though Finn was currently preoccupied, refusing to leave Rose's side unless he absolutely had to, it was still nice to be in the company of a comrade occasionally. BB-8 had always been a great companion, and, truth be told, as charismatic as Poe appeared to be, he was much more comfortable conversing with droids than people. Finn had been the first person he could really consider to be a friend.

And then there was Rey. The scavenger girl who had become a Resistance hero overnight. The last Jedi. Finn always spoke of her as if they'd been best friends all their lives. Then again, Finn spoke about most people that way. Poe doubted that he had ever truly met a stranger. He practically _idolized_ everyone in the Resistance. He was like a kid with an infectious outlook of amazement and curiosity. He definitely had his moments, but for the most part, Finn was just someone you wanted to be lifelong buddies with. And, as highly as he thought of Rey, Poe figured she was probably someone you'd want to be lifelong buddies with too.

They had talked a few times since they met on Crait. She was kind and easy-going, but she was also very reserved and private. He could tell she preferred to stay guarded with people, and she didn't like to talk about her past much. From what he could gather, she'd had a rough and lonely life, and getting caught up with BB-8 and Finn had only complicated it. And she was still very uncomfortable with most of them, aside from BB-8, Finn, and Chewie. Figures, ladies love the Wookies. And BB-8. Poe was beginning to suspect the animated little droid had a crush on her.

She didn't like for people to look at her like a hero. She hadn't even known she was force-sensitive until she got swept up into all this mess. Poe felt for her. It must be terrifying and confusing to suddenly get thrown into a conflict you know nothing about, only to be given tools you've never used before to fight with. She was a survivor though. They all were. Necessity demanded it. And despite her inexperience, Poe admired her tenacity and her ability to quickly adapt. She was also a fairly decent pilot. With enough time and training, she might even surpass _his_ skills, and that's something Poe would _never_ acknowledge of anyone. He took immense pride in his prowess as best pilot in the Resistance, so for him to recognize that someone as amateur as Rey could one day exceed him in that arena was a significant accolade.

Today had been grueling. Their last run had been less than fruitful. They had only managed to obtain a few portions, barely enough for another day. They also salvaged some medical equipment, none of which would do them any good if they starved to death. They had to do better tomorrow. They were running on borrowed time and failure was _not_ an option. Right now, however, there was nothing else they could get done, with nightfall quickly approaching.

All Poe wanted was a long, cold shower, and a chance to sleep, even if just for a few hours. He was entering the corridor from the hangar when he caught a glimpse of Rey just inside the lounge. He flashed a cheeky smile and walked over to greet her. "Hey! Fancy meeting you here! How's the grub?" He figured they could both use a dose of satirical humor right about now, and if there was one thing Poe was good at besides flying, it was making light of a crappy situation. Rey stared at him blankly, her focus clearly on something else. He twisted around, trying to figure out what they were looking at, but nothing was there. He tried getting her attention again. "Hey, are you ok, kid? What are you staring at?" He waved his hand in front of her face, attempting to snap her out of her daze. She didn't flinch.

Poe frowned. She looked incredibly pale, and he noticed her hands were shaking. She was breaking out into a cold sweat. His voice became more urgent. "Rey? Hey, Rey! What's going on? Can you hear me?" He barely got the words out of his mouth before her body went flaccid and she began crumpling to the floor. His arms shot out instinctively to catch her. He thought he heard her mumbling something unintelligibly, but by the time he had her in a position to hold her head steady and try to make out what she was saying, she had completely lost consciousness.

He shouted out to Finn, who had been helping a couple of the others sort through the day's spoils. "Finn! Get those medical supplies to the medbay, NOW! We've got an emergency!" Finn came running towards him and his eyes fell on Rey, immediately widening in panic. "Rey! Force, what happened?! Ok, ok…. medical supplies. Take her and go! I'll be right behind you." Poe nodded in acknowledgement as Finn raced to grab what they needed.

BB-8 was rolling by when he heard the commotion, but Poe waved him off, so the droid sped up to trail behind Finn instead. Poe lifted Rey, trying to keep her in a comfortable position. "Ok, kid. This is going to be awkward, but since you can't help me out right now, I'll try not to drop you. Ok?" He wasn't expecting a response, but she suddenly shifted her head against his shoulder and moaned inaudibly. He could already feel how feverish she was becoming. "What the hell did you do to yourself?" He was asking himself more than he was asking her.

His stance wavered for a split second, but he quickly braced his posture and started down the corridor for the medbay, as swiftly as he felt he could without her slipping from his grip. "Hang in there, Rey. You're gonna be fine, just don't go dying on me, ok? You're not allowed to die. We're not losing anyone else and I will never forgive you for leaving me here to fend for Finn by myself. Got it? No deserting Finn. That kid needs two people to parent him, and I'm not the mothering kind." It was only a short walk to the medbay, but at the moment, it felt like a long-winded hike up a kriffing mountain, and Poe's nerves were failing him. He suddenly felt like he was now solely responsible for the fates of everyone left in the Resistance.


	6. Chapter VI

**Chapter VI: Doubt Falling into A Never-ending Chasm**

General Leia Organa was tired, in every sense of the word. Everything leading up to the Battle of Crait, if you could call it a battle, and the subsequent aftermath, had taken their toll. She had finally lost hope for her son's redemption, and now that Luke was gone, she didn't know if she had the strength left to keep going. But, despite her growing doubts, she was still a leader, and she had people counting on her. So, though she felt weary and downtrodden on the inside, she put on the mask of a steadfast warrior, for the sake of her Resistance. Her _friends_. Her _family_.

She was in the medbay, checking up on Rose, who had been drifting in and out of consciousness since Crait. They were managing well enough with the provisions they currently had. Between the Millennium Falcon's emergency stash and whatever could be found in the smuggler's den, they at least had resources to pull from. But nothing they had would make a substantial difference. Poe was leading a crew on a mission to scrounge up more portions, medical supplies, and any other goods and materials that could potentially be useful to them. But the day was waning, and they hadn't checked in yet.

Lieutenant Connix had been assigned to go with Chewbacca to the Falcon, to monitor the coms while Poe's team was out. It wasn't ideal, but until they could bring the base's terminals online, the Falcon's systems were their only way to relay information. Connix's job was to report back with any updates, either to Commander D'Acy or General Organa directly. The last status they had available suggested that the crew was trying to establish contacts at an outpost where supplies would be readily available. Whether or not they were successful remained to be seen.

Leia was just about to leave Rose and find Commander D'Acy, to see if Connix had brought back word recently, when there was a sudden outbreak of panicked voices and heavy footsteps headed her way. Before she had time to react, Poe abruptly burst through the door, carrying a motionless Rey in his arms. They exchanged a quick look and Leia could see the urgency and concern in Poe's face, an unusual display of emotion for him. She motioned to the open cot on the opposite wall from where she stood by Rose's bed. He swiftly strode towards it and lowered Rey onto the weathered mattress.

"What did you do, Dameron?" Leia probed skeptically as she made her way to the medical station, searching for a medisensor, or any device that could be used to check Rey's vitals. Poe shot her an affronted glare while her back was still turned to him, before redirecting his attention to Rey. "I didn't! We just arrived, and I found her in a fixated trance right before she collapsed. You won't find what you need in there, but we may have something helpful from our supply run. Finn's on his way." Leia nodded as she approached the bedside, leaning slightly forward to feel Rey's forehead and hands, gingerly. The way she tended to her was motherly and instinctive, as if she'd cared for this girl all her life. "She's burning up, but her hands are freezing. Did she say _anything_ to you before she passed out?"

Poe started to reply, but they were interrupted by Finn. He entered the room with what appeared to be a worn-out duffle bag. BB-8 was hot on his heels, beeping frantically. "I've got… the supplies… now what?" He was out of breath and looked a bit disoriented. Beads of sweat had already formed across his forehead. Poe reached out an arm. "Toss me the bag. You don't look so great, buddy. You should take a breather." Finn pitched the bag to Poe, then slumped back against the nearest wall, gasping for air. "Breathing… yeah… yeah… got it… good idea…" Poe rolled his eyes, shaking his head slightly, while rummaging through the bag for something useful. Once he found what he was looking for, he dropped the bag at the foot of the cot. "Here. I knew I remembered us finding one of these. It's a little beat up, but it's functional." He handed Leia the medisensor.

Rey began to stir as Leia activated the device to scan her. Poe quickly moved to grab an empty cup off the station counter. "I'll go get some water, she needs fluids." Leia responded with a distracted _"mmhmm"_ , still focused on Rey as Poe left the room. Finn was still panting when BB-8 rolled up to the side of the bed, beeping away and swiveling his head back and forth between Rey and Finn. "No, Rey isn't going to die. And Finn isn't going to have an aneurism either." Leia didn't look up as she continued the scan. The droid didn't seem satisfied with this answer, so he warbled and spun around in a pacing manner. Leia replied again, this time with a hint of amusement in her voice. "Yes… I'm sure." She paused briefly, a wistful smile passing over her as she remembered something Han always used to say. "This isn't my first rodeo." BB-8 thought about protesting again, but Finn disrupted their exchange, slowly pushing off the wall to join them. "Her eyes are fluttering. I think she's waking up."

Rey groaned as she gradually regained consciousness, lifting her arm to block the light from her eyes. It took her several moments to adjust to the sudden change in brightness. Once her eyes became less sensitive, she cautiously laid her arm back down and squinted, hazily taking in her surroundings. Poe reentered the room, filled cup in hand, just as Rey was struggling to sit up. She was attempting to prop herself up with her elbows, immediately regretting the decision as a sharp pain stabbed through her temples. Finn reached out to steady her as Poe neared the bed, and Leia gently instructed, "Stay still, hon. You've had a bad spell."

But Rey didn't seem to comprehend what she said, still straining to elevate herself before dizziness caused her to sway shakily. This time, Poe braced her, lifting the cup to her now chapped lips. "Whoa, there. Take it easy, kid. You're gonna get a concussion if you keep trying to hit your head like this. The water will help. Just sip it nice and slow, ok?" She tried to give a faint nod, but the throbbing sent her reeling again and she winced painfully. Poe motioned for Finn to put an arm around her back, so he could support her head gently while she drank. "Ok, easy now. That's it. Small sips. Just a little at a time." He tilted the cup and she roughly swallowed. Her throat felt like sandpaper, but the cool liquid was soothing.

After a few moments, she felt balanced enough to lean forward on her own. Leia was looking over the reading from the medisensor. "Rey, according to this, you're dangerously dehydrated, and your blood sugar levels are much lower than they should be. This doesn't make sense. You don't appear to have any sort of infection, though you are running a fever. The only other cause for symptoms like these would be extreme malnourishment. Even with our efforts to conserve rations, your levels shouldn't be affected this severely. When was the last time you ate?"

Rey stared at her blankly for a moment, trying to grasp the question so she could formulate an answer. Even as flushed as her cheeks were in her current state, she could feel the heat rising as she stammered timidly. "I… I was… I wanted to… make sure there was enough… for everyone el-, " her eyes suddenly grew wide and she promptly lurched to the side, doubling over and retching violently. Unfortunately for Poe, his foot was in the direct line of fire. BB-8 made a noise that sounded like a disgusted _"ewww"_ , followed by a mocking chuckle. Finn attempted to stifle his own repulsed snicker. Leia was less than amused. Naturally, it would be Poe who got bombarded with such a putrid assault. Karma brings swift judgement, though this was, undeservedly, a mere slap on the hand in comparison to some of Poe's most recent transgressions.

Poe didn't seem overly fazed, however. She had mostly vomited water and bile. He continued to steady Rey, rubbing her back patiently while she was still heaving. "Ok, kid… breathe… don't tense up. Just breathe through it." Once Rey's stomach finally stopped contracting, Poe helped her lay back down on her side, in case she felt any more sudden urges to puke. As he got up to search for something to clean himself off with, Finn offered to find rags to clean the floor with as well. BB-8 followed them when they left the room to go find the necessary cleaning supplies. Leia turned her attention back to Rey. There was no mistaking the displeasure in her expression and tone as she repeated her previous question. "Rey, when was the last time you ate?"

Rey suddenly felt like a small child being reprimanded for not eating her vegetables. "Only a few days," she replied weakly. "I've had to go longer without on Jakku. On multiple occasions. I just wanted to help…" Leia frowned, growing increasingly agitated. " _That_ is a dangerous game to play. You could fall _seriously_ ill. You already have a high temperature as it as. How the _force_ does starving yourself help us?" Leia was crossing her arms now. Rey imagined herself slowly shrinking beneath her gaze. Her voice was barely above a whisper. "I'm used to not always having food to eat. The others needed to eat more than I did. I knew I wouldn't have to fast for long. Just until the supply crew could bring back more rations. I tried to make up for it with water, I swear I've been drinking every chance I get."

Leia let out an exasperated sigh, her voice stern and scolding, but evenly composed. "Rey, you are _not_ on Jakku anymore. Your body has adapted to eating healthier portions on a regular basis. Not to mention the fact that you've been over-exerting; pushing yourself to the limit since you started training. Adrenaline dehydration can be _crippling_ , even if you've been drinking as much as you say you have. Do you have any idea how life-threatening this can be? If we can't get you to keep down liquids, you'll only become more dehydrated, and your fever won't break. It can also lead to hallucinations and seizures." She eyed Rey suspiciously for a moment, sensing her apprehension. Rey's pulse quickened, and she thought she was going to be sick again. But the feeling was fleeting, and she shifted her gaze downwards without responding to Leia's mention of deliriums.

"From what Poe told me about the condition you were in when he found you, I suspect you've already started experiencing the former of those symptoms. Malnutrition only adds to that. Your immune system is gradually beginning to break down, and you won't be able to fight off infections. We have _less_ medical resources right now than we do portions. The best way to help the rest of us is to take care of yourself. We need _all_ of our team members to stay as healthy as possible, especially now. We've been doing what we can for Rose, but she needs our undivided attention. And we need to procure _and_ preserve whatever medical instruments and medicine we can, in order for her to improve. _But_ , if we have to also be worrying about you, we'll _never_ make our supplies last."

Rey began to tear up as Leia berated her. "I… I'm sorry… I didn't know… I honestly thought I could handle it." Leia's appearance softened, and she carefully sat down on the edge of the bed, taking Rey's hand tenderly. Her tone was much gentler now, something like maternal concern seeping through. "Rey. You are valuable to us. Not because of what you can do, or who you could become. You are _family_. And you are _irreplaceable_. You have a good heart. But, for a while now, I've sensed that something is troubling you. You've been somewhere else the past several days, as though you're going through the motions, but you seem… distracted." Rey felt a twinge in her chest, her heartrate subtly increasing again, causing her to grimace. She remained silent, hoping any visible signs of distress would be passed off as simply feeling unwell.

If Leia registered her discomfort as more than achy queasiness, she didn't let on. Instead, she offered some advice. "I think you'll find we have a lot more in common than you realize. I may not be as attuned as my brother was, but I do understand what you're going through, Rey. Being force sensitive is hardly ever easy. And it can sometimes feel like you carry the weight of the galaxy on your shoulders. But you aren't alone. If there's something wrong, I want you to know you can come to me. My only concern is for your well-being, Rey. You can't keep sacrificing your health for the sake of everyone else."

Rey slowly nodded, taking her time to collect her thoughts. "Thank you… I appreciate your kindness. I've been alone my whole life, so trusting and depending on others… it's still very new to me. I don't want to be a burden to anyone, and I'm sorry that I ended up being exactly that." Leia simply squeezed her hand in reply, sitting with her in silence for a while longer.

Finn and Poe had come and gone, cleaning where needed and bringing extra bedding for Rey to feel more comfortable, since she would have to stay in the medbay overnight. BB-8 firmly planted himself beside her, refusing to leave the room as long as she was there. Rey was warmed by the droid's affectionate display. He was probably the most adorable watch-droid she had ever been acquainted with.

Rey was instructed to continue drinking fluids, and to eat a small dose of portions once an hour or so, until her stomach could handle more. They wanted to make sure she wouldn't throw it all up again, and she would need to have someone monitoring her temperature periodically through the night. It would be a couple of days for her to fully recover, but a gradual transition back into her accustomed diet was the best way to prevent further system shock.

Poe would have to be up early the next morning to head out on another supply run, but Finn volunteered to stay with Rey, and Rose, through the night. Before Leia left them, Rey expressed her gratitude again for taking care of her. Leia squeezed her hand once more and told her to get some rest. Finn fell asleep rather quickly, having brought extra blankets and a pillow to make a pallet along the wall, halfway between Rey and Rose. Rey couldn't help but smile. He really was a great friend.

Rey tossed and turned for a while, unable to drift off. Leia's comments about hallucinations were still nagging at her. It _should_ have comforted Rey to know that what she'd seen during her episode was just a mirage brought on by her delirious state. But Leia's statement about sensing that something was troubling her was unsettling.

Something _was_ wrong, and she knew it was affecting her in more ways than one. The way Leia had spoken to her almost seemed as though she knew about Rey's secret. Of course, that was paranoia. She had no way of knowing. Rey wasn't very convinced by her own assertion. Leia was a very intuitive woman. Was it really so hard to believe she could possibly know about Rey's former connection to her own son? She pushed the thought immediately from her mind. This was madness.

When would she be able to put him out of her head for good? He was gone, she knew that; it was something she reminded herself of every day. And yet, he'd affected her in such a way that she was imagining things in her dreams, and now, even while she was awake. That nearly imperceptible feeling at the base of her skull was nothing more than the result of debilitating headaches and extreme nausea. And if telling herself that didn't calm her nerves, then she'd attempt to brush it off as psychosomatic.

She needed to learn to bring her illusory premonitions under control. Her anxiety was only draining her confidence, as well as her overall health. The only way to push past these mental barriers was to stop allowing fear to rule her life. She couldn't keep running and looking over her shoulder forever. So, for tonight, she would believe her wishful lies. The pit in her stomach that continuously churned was just her body's reaction to deprivation. And her restlessness was a direct result of fatigue. It was time to leave her troubles behind and rest. Once sleep came, it was a quiet, dreamless night.


End file.
